Ain't Gonna Drown
by KingfisherWrites
Summary: Since the age of four, Victoria Nightingale had lived under the cruel fist of the Death Eaters. She had known nothing but strict obedience and the pain that followed rebellion. She bowed to their rule and became their secret weapon. However in 1992 she was saved by the Ministry and taken under the wing of Alastor Moody. Victoria had believed the Ministry would offer her freedom…
1. Intro

**DISCLAIMER**

\- I do not own any characters, dialog, or plot lines from the Harry Potter series. That all belongs to the wonderful J. -

\- I do own my original characters, dialog, and plot lines -

\- This story will start at The Goblet of Fire. It will stick with the main plot line overall, but will diverge sometimes -

\- There will be AU scenarios -

\- Please do not copy any of my original creations -

\- I am really bad at updating (sorry) -

* * *

 **EXTENDED SUMMARY**

"After everything I've done... am I a monster?"

"You are relentlessly stubborn, short-fused, and an absolute mess of a human being. But you are not a monster. Just so... beautiful broken."

Since the age of four, Victoria Nightingale had lived under the cruel fist of the Death Eaters. She had known nothing but strict obedience and the pain that followed rebellion. She bowed to their rule and became their secret weapon. However in 1992 she was saved by the Ministry and taken under the wing of Alastor Moody. Victoria had believed the Ministry would offer her freedom…but nothing is ever as good as a dream.

Stuck beneath a new master, Victoria is forced to protect the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. Crippled by her demons she submitted to their every whim, all the while she hid behind a mask of secrets and lies. As her fears dictated her every move, Victoria longed for help that she knew would never come.

But what if it did? What if the relief she had always sort after stood right before her in the form of a redheaded wizard? Would she have the strength to grasp onto his promises of safety and love? Or would she sink into the torments of her past and drown in her own cowardice?

"It's not about power, it's about patience."

* * *

 **THE CAST**

young!liv tyler  
as  
 **VICTORIA NIGHTINGALE**

"Clever, talented, and merciless. She is everything they wanted her to be."

* * *

 **AIN'T GONNA DROWN**

 _-elle king-_

I'm bound for the broken promise land, To meet my demons and get back me upper hand.

Lawman can't catch a soul like mine, Miracles are just too damn hard to find.

* * *

 **EPIGRAPH**

 _"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."_

\- Plato


	2. The Irish or Bulgarians?

**Chapter One**

 _Irish or Bulgarians?_

* * *

There were wizards and witches everywhere - the noise was ridiculous. Hundreds of rows of tents surrounded the grand stadium where the 422nd Quidditch World Cup was going to take place. The whole atmosphere of the grounds was crowed, noisy, festive and one of the most ludicrous things Victoria had ever witnessed.

There were people dressed in what is assumed to be their idea of muggle clothing and people dressed in supporting colours too. Oddly enough it would be Victoria that stood out in this crowd, dressed in a solid black uniform of a long-sleeved shirt, trousers and with a heavy matching cloak thrown over her shoulders. She had left her hair loose for the event, letting the equally dark locks tumble freely over her shoulders. Victoria did not support any colourful face paints like the many that surrounded her, instead her Nordic blue eyes was the only colour she wore.

Victoria returned her attention back to the stand she was in. She was with a dreary and uptight looking man called Barty Crouch. The man was her judge for the day. Any mistake no matter how small it would go straight back to the Minister, she had to be careful.

"Nightingale!" he bellowed despite their proximity. The man was talking with some other important looking gentlemen, that Victoria presumed were helping to run the event.

"Yes, Mr. Crouch?"

"Please do fetch Mr. Ludo Bagman. I need his assistance dealing with the Bulgarians extra seating. This is after all, his job," he ordered her, only briefly turning to wave her away.

"Of course - Sir." Victoria was slightly hesitant to leave. This was the first time she has been outside the Ministry without an auror watching her every move. She had expected there to be more reluctance to let her wander the grounds by herself. Either Mr. Crouch had forgotten or had more faith in her than she expected, but Victoria did not question it and so with a brief nod in Crouch's direction she turned in search for the wizard.

Ludo Bagman is an aged wizard with short blonde hair and a noticeable gut squeezed under his old, bright yellow Wimborne Wasps quidditch uniform. He was also the wizard that was supposed to be organising and controlling the Quidditch game however, he is once again disregarding his responsibilities to gallivant about the place taking bets.

Standing at the top of the stadium Victoria breathed deep summoning her confidence to stand next to the rail. She gave her best efforts not to think about the plunging height and willed her hands to stop shaking. She pushed through her fears to scan the large gathering of magical folk for the missing wizard. She caught a glimpse of the only bright yellow robes amongst the sea of the tents on the far side of the field.

It took her far longer than anticipated to reach the small gathering of witches and wizards. Slightly out of breath and uncomfortably warm under her robes she arrived and stood directly in front of a lounging Ministry representative.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that but we really can't spare anyone at the moment -" Ludo was cut off by his own surprise. He frowned only for a second before letting his usual bold smile return, "Nightingale! Good to see you! Barty finally let you have a wander, eh?"

"I have come on request of Mr. Crouch. He requires your presence immediately, something to do with the Bulgarians wanting more seats," Victoria said, ignoring the jab at her current freedom from the ever-watchful eyes.

"Oh, is that what they were after?" Bagman asked rhetorically. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Miss? Would you like a cup of tea?" A scrawny redheaded wizard asked her. There was a slight tremor in his hands and voice.

"No." Victoria could already hear Kingsley's scolding words drift from the back of her mind. "Thank you," she added and the voices diminished. "I'm not here to drink tea."

"So Crouch is keeping you busy then, eh, Nightingale?" Bagman heaved himself up from the ground. His old and tight quidditch uniform didn't make it an easy job.

"Yes. He is keeping me busy with your responsibilities. Now if you please, we should return to Mr. Crouch." Her irritation rose as the man in front of her yet again tried to avoid doing his job.

"Now, now. What's the hurry? I'm sure our Bulgarian friends can wait a little longer," Ludo said with a bright smile and turned to the oldest of their company. "Besides you haven't been introduced yet! This is -"

Victoria's patience snapped, "I don't care who these people are. Now will you please stop slacking and return to Mr. Crouch before I drag you there myself." There was a brief moment of silence before she strained an empty, " _Sir,_ " through clenched teeth.

Ludo stood dumbfounded. He gaped like a fish out of water until he found some words to stutter over. "Well – uh- seems I'm needed elsewhere. Thanks for the tea Arthur! I'll see you later; you'll be up in the top box with me - I'm commentating!"

 **ϟ**

As the day moved on Victoria found herself sitting at the top of the stands. She slouched heavily against the plastic with her eyes shut. The young witch found a moment of peace as she listened to the many sounds around her. Victoria could hear the chatter of hundreds of conversations, the loud bangs from several charmed tents and supporting props, and the distant whizzing sounds of people flying around on their brooms, she could also hear Mr. Crouch, Ludo Bagman and the Bulgarians discussing the seating arrangement somewhere off to the side.

Victoria's attention was suddenly drawn to a new sound - the echo of footsteps that were gradually approaching her. Years of relentless training made her tense. She sat up straight and flexed her wand arm in preparation for it to drop into her hand, only to let out a frustrated sigh as she realised that would not be happening since the Ministry was still in possession of it. Instead, Victoria snapped her eyes open and clenched her fists in preparation to take on the potential threat with her bare hands.

It was in fact a young man, who could not be past the age of eighteen. He had dark brown hair cut short and a light skin tone that contrasted his brown eyes making them appear even darker.

"May I help you?" Asked Victoria.

The stranger took a fleeting glimpse around him, then offered a shy smile and his hand in greeting.

"Viktor Krum," he introduced himself in a thick Bulgarian accent and offered her a hand.

"Charmed." She ignored his outstretched hand. "What do you want?"

"Ah. Vell, you looked lonely." Instead of swooning to his charming smile Victoria let out an unpleasant scoff. Victor was taken aback. "Fine then. I'm lonely."

Victoria crossed her arms over her chest.

"Humour me?" Krum said hopefully and arms spread low and wide. Victoria closed her eyes briefly and took a deep sigh. She plastered a forced smile letting him know that she would listen. Krum smiled brightly, "Irish or Bulgarians?"

"Neither. I don't know anything about Quidditch, nor do I care."

Krum's smile immediately fell as soon as her words slipped free from her mouth. The young quidditch player did not hide his disappointment as he questioned her further. "Oh, then vhy come to the game?"

 _It wasn't my choice._ She thought. Luckily, she did not have to answer as a gruff looking Bulgarian man pulled Krum away and Victoria was joined by her two authorities.

"Come along Nightingale, the stadium will be opening to the public now. We best get to our box." Mr. Couch urged her, his voice strained with an imminent fatigue. It was clear that day's event was taking a matching toll on their energy.

 **ϟ**

Mr. Crouch chose to walk to the Top Box, they were intercepted by many witches and wizards along the way. He quickly got very frustrated and summoned his house elf to save him a seat in the box. By the time they were only one floor away, a sudden look of realisation washed over Mr. Crouch's face. He abruptly stopped to spin around to Ludo and Victoria.

"I have something I wish to see to," he blurted. The usually very refined man looked panicked. "You best go on Ludo; the match is about to start. Nightingale go with him, make sure he actually gets there."

Victoria frowned at her superior's odd outburst but agreed nonetheless.

The pair eventually made it to the box just in time for the start. Ludo rushed straight to the barrier and pulled out his wand. The witch took a position further back from the dropping height.

"Everyone ready? Minister – ready to go?" He asked beaming with excitement. The Minister gave him the go ahead and so Ludo put his wand to his throat and spoke "Sonorus". The spell magnified his voice giving him the ability to speak over the roaring crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen... Welcome! Welcome to the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!" The stadium erupted into huge cheers and screams, spectators waved their supporting flags and sung out-of-rhythm national anthems. "And now without further ado, allow me to introduce..."

Victoria tuned out to Bagman's incredibly loud voice and looked around the box she was currently stood in the corner of. Glancing at each of her company she noticed that the redheads and friends were here from earlier, the Malfoys and some important looking Bulgarians were also present. She also noticed a small house elf tucked in a tight ball on one of the seats, Victoria guessed it was most likely Mr. Crouch's.

"Good evening Nightingale. Behaving I hope?" The Minister asked coming to stand by her side.

"Absolutely sir."

"Yes, well, I'll be asking both Ludo and Barty for their opinions later on." The Minister caught a look at Victoria's bored expression and frowned. "Do try to look like you're enjoying yourself, Nightingale. You are representing the Ministry."

 **ϟ**

Hours after the match had ended, and the Irish celebrations still had not diminished. Victoria was glad she had no official part in overall control the event. She laid sprawled out over a sofa in Mr. Crouch's tent, awaiting his return so she could finally go back to the Ministry for the night. Whilst her position made had given the first impression of comfort Victoria felt the furthest thing from it. She had her eyes tightly shut and her hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the noise, she silently willed Barty to hurry up with whatever he was doing.

Then jubilant noise suddenly changed.

Victoria bolted upright. Cries of joy were now filled with terror. Broken screams, pleas for help and hopeless commands filled the air. The witch rushed to the door and all but fell out of it.

Outside was worse, a lot worse. Flames tore through tents with furious speeds, spitting sparks, igniting the next. The sky was veiled in thick smoke eradicating any light from the moon and stars. Amongst the cloud were mangled bodies, twisted and limp. They were muggles, Death Eaters would not kill magic folk unless they had to.

Given the sheer size of the event, there had to be more than one Death Eater attacking. Fighting back without help would be suicide and right now Victoria did not have help. She had to find Mr. Crouch, she needed her wand. Pulling up her hood she darted towards the forest.

Victoria was thrown about just as much as she shoved back but in time she managed to make it to the edge of the forest. It was much quieter there, only a few people darted in between the trees. Victoria pushed herself forwards deeper into the gloom. She thought the Ministry would take cover here, but the eerie silence of the dark wood said otherwise.

The adrenaline had worn off. Her limbs had become sluggish as her lungs heaved starved breaths. Victoria took a second to lean against a tree. She closed her eyes forcing her body to regain some sort of energy. Then she heard it. A bout of manic laughter echoed through the trees.

Her eyes shot open, she scanned the trees with an unfocused gaze. She flew around as the cackle appeared behind her.

 _It's just your head playing tricks. Nothing is there._ Victoria replayed the thought over and over as if she could trick herself into believing it.

The laughter struck the silence again this time accompanied by the crunch of leaves and twigs. Her heart pounded against her chest. Her ears deafened by the rush of blood. She could barely see but never did her watch waver from the trees.

A darting figure crossed between the tall shadows, Victoria backed herself up against the trunk she was once leant against. She had no wand. No way of protecting herself, and now she was surrounded.

Her attention refocused on something to her left. A group three of boys were trekking through the woods unaware of the danger they were walking into. Revitalised by the need to protect, the second they were close enough, Victoria leapt forward and placed a finger over her lips.

"Be quiet, we are not alone out here," whispered Victoria.

The boys, that were no older than fifteen, begun to look around them. They scanned the area for what the witch had warned them about, but when they saw nothing one turned back around and asked, "are you sure? I don't see anything."

As if their words were magic the figure had disappeared as had the laughter. Despite the lack of movement in their surroundings Victoria remained suspicious.

"I don't understand," she muttered.

"Look, we're all scared. Maybe you just thought you saw something," said the oldest of the kids. "Come on guys. We need to find a way out of here."

Just as they started to move away from Victoria she caught a flash of light in the corner of her eye. She moved on instinct pushing the boys to the ground before the magic could hit them. The curse collided with the tree above them, sending splinters of oak in every direction.

"Run," she shoved the boys and took off running with them. The Death Eater although out of sight, was not far behind. Every minute another spell flew passed them with worrying proximity. They leapt over branches and sprinted around trees until the youngest of them group missed a step and crashed to the floor.

"Leo!" Both of the other boys cried. They changed direction and went back for their friend. Victoria kept an eye out for the Death Eater whilst they checked on the boy.

"My ankle, it hurts," the young boy wept quietly.

"Can you walk on it?" Victoria asked. The boy shook his head, a few tears dripped down his cheeks. If they did not hurry up they were going to suffer injuries worse than a sore ankle. "Give me a wand."

"What?"

"A wand. I need one."

"We don't have wands," the oldest said, "we're squibs."

Now they were definitely in danger. It is unlikely that a Death Eater would hurt any magic folk, but a squib, they were viewed like muggles. Victoria had to do something. She crouched next to the boys and whispered, "Stay here, and stay low."

Victoria picked up a decent size rock and trekked off slowly in the direction of the Death Eater. Her dark clothes provided the perfect coverage, keeping her form concealed within the shadows. It was not long before she heard the snapping of twigs under the weight of heavy footsteps.

Off to her right was the man she was looking for. Cloaked in a similar attire to her own, just without a hood. He was well camouflaged except for the moonlight reflecting off the top of his pale bald head.

Her breathing steadied, this what she was trained to do. The confidence of knowledge and experience enabled her to take the few steps into position behind the Death Eater. She jumped forward and kicked the back of his leg knee then smashed the rock into his head. The Death Eater fell flat, unconscious.

Before Victoria had a second to comprehend she was hit from behind and sent flying into the forest floor. The impact left her dazed.

"Fuck," the witch groaned and turned onto her back to see two more Death Eaters raise their wands at her.

Victoria rolled away just before the spells hit the ground where she once laid. She dived behind the cover of a tree and controlled her breathing, keeping it as quiet as possible. The ache in her side and sting of the cuts clouded her senses. The witch strained her ears and listened for the slightest movements. One was approaching on the left, the other she could not hear.

Crouching to the ground Victoria took a handful of dirt, replacing the rock she had lost, and stayed low. The footsteps grew closer, but she waited. It was only when the boot of one of the Death Eaters appeared next to her she sprang into action.

Delivering a swift hit to his leg, the man tumbled giving Victoria the opportunity to spin around the other side of the tree. She found the second Death Eater instantly and threw the handful of dirt into his face. He screamed and franticly rubbed his eyes. Victoria disarmed the man and sharply introduced her elbow to the side of his face.

As his comrade dropped, the remaining Death Eater twisted onto his back and threw a hopeless curse at the witch. Victoria dodged it easily and retaliated with a stunning spell from her stolen wand.

Victoria pulled her hood down and finally let herself breathe properly as the last Death Eater slipped into unconsciousness. She walked over and picked up the two wands from the other Death Eaters, hissing in pain every time she had to bend down.

"Bloody hell."

Victoria spun around wand at the ready but lowered it the second she realised it was just the group of boys she had been protecting. They looked at the three bodies on the forest floor and then to her.

"Did you kill them?"

"No." Victoria rolled her eyes and started her march out of the forest. "Stay close, there could be more," she said as the boys followed behind her, the tallest one was carrying the injured on his back.

 **ϟ**

It must have taken them at least half an hour to make it out of the forest, but when they did all four of them huffed a deep sigh of relief. The masses had died down, only a few people remained gathered around the small stone cottage on the edge of the event grounds, majority of which were Ministry representatives and reporters. When they got closer the parents of the boys cried their names and rushed for them.

Victoria watched them embrace in tight hugs. She felt a tingle of jealousy at the sight. She did not dwell on the thought for long as she was soon joined by a familiar presence.

"You look a state, what have you been doing?" Asked Kingsley Shackleblot mentioning to her knotted hair and the minor cuts on her face.

"Making friends," Victoria looked at her mentor and handed him the three wands. "There are three sleeping Death Eaters somewhere in the forest if you want them, but I'd hurry I didn't hit them too hard."

"Are you alright?"

"I'll be sore in the morning, but nothing a small potion can't fix."

"Good," Kingsley prompted her to follow him as he wandered towards the cottage, "the Minister wishes to speak with you."

Victoria could only just keep up with his swift pace, having to jog every couple of steps. Inside the cottage was fairly pleasant. The warm room had a faint orange glow from the candle lights and several piece of brown furniture. Kingsley had gone straight to the Minister by the fireplace and handed him the three wands, speaking to him in a hushed voice.

The Minister soon waved Victoria over as Kingsley took his leave.

"Good work this evening, Nightingale," said the Minister as he waved the wands slightly. "I'm prepared to allow you back to the Ministry for the night and do the debrief tomorrow. The floo network should be open here soon."

"Thank you, Sir." Believing their conversation was over, Victoria rolled her should back and awaited the network.

The Minister cleared his throat and regained her attention. When Victoria look back at the short, balding man she drew a sharp breath. He was holding out her white wand. She took it gingerly as if it were made of glass or as if this whole thing was a joke. She has not seen nor held her own wand in nearly two years and the Minister was just handing it to her.

"Well done." The Minister left her stunned by the fireplace.

Victoria clutched to the familiar weight, almost fearful that if she was to let go it would disappear. She felt a smile catch at the corners of her lips. She felt whole again.


	3. Not What it Seems

**Chapter Two**

 _Not What it Seems_

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Asked the Minister although, his lack of care was more than evident in his emotionless tone.

They had just finished the full debrief from Victoria's point of view. She recalled honestly and the Minister jotted it all down. The witch was perfectly capable of handing in a report like the others would have done, but everyone in the Ministry despised her scruffy handwriting, telling her it was impossible to read. How the Minister ended up being her scribe she would never know.

"Spectacular." Victoria grabbed the copy of the daily prophet from his desk and flicked through it. Every now and then she would snort or tut at the ridiculous statements the reporter made. Despite the silliness of the article it got her thinking. She wondered what this reporter would make of her. What she would say about the Ministry hiring an ex-Death Eater. "Are you ever going to legitimise my employment?"

The Minister looked up from the report, his face contorted into a heavy frown. "Why do you ask?"

"That's a no then." Victoria was not surprised in the slightest, but a small part of her hoped that one day she would be treated as equal employee rather than a loyal dog.

"The public rely on and trust the Ministry. Our reputation must be preserved."

"Can I quit my job?"

"To do what?"

"Get another job."

"You don't have qualifications."

"Then I'll go to school."

The Minister laughed under his breath and shook his head at the witch. "Do you really think any work place or school is going to accept you with a mark like that on your arm?"

Victoria instinctively covered her left forearm. "People change," she argued.

"No they don't."

He was right in some sense. Her history was something she would never escape. It lingered like a bad taste in the mouth. It haunted her through lucid memories, frenzied panics and the ugly black mark. She could cover it all up, like the sleeve over her arm, but it would not change a thing.

"So you think I'm still the erratic unstable teenage girl that walked through your doors two years ago?"

"Yes, but your talents have grown more useful." He fixed her with a stern look. His eyes narrowed slightly and pulled out a small folder, "Speaking of which, these are for you. Your next assignment."

When Victoria made no move to take the papers he dropped it in front of her. The witch kept her scowling gaze on the Minister. His words hurt, she had tried to reform herself, to become something better.

"The documents will tell you everything in detail," he continued unconcerned by her expression, "In short you are to provide support for the Triwizard Tournament that will be held at Hogwarts after the summer. Questions?"

"Is that really what you think of me?" Her voice was quiet with a touch of anger bleeding through.

"If I had it my way you would be in Azkaban. However, the Wizengamot thought differently and here you are." The Minister leant back and folded his hands together, "Now off you go, and make sure you read the file, Nightingale."

Victoria slid the folder off the desk, letting a few loose papers float to the ground. She fled his office before he could call her back to pick them up.

His words were the clarification of the invisible collar around her neck. The tether that bound her to the Ministry for the rest of her life. A tight coil of fear and fury wrapped around her chest forcing heaved breaths through clenched teeth.

"That's not a good look," said Kingsley. Victoria barely noticed where she had gone or where she was. The wizard's voice anchored her, she could feel her aggravation diminish ever so slightly. "You need tea, come on."

Victoria did not say a word as Kingsley lead her to one of the small tea rooms. She held on tight to the paper file. The sweat from her hands softend it and the strength in her grip begun to tear the fragile material beneath her fingers. The wizard sat her down in the corner and swiftly made off to collect the warm beverage.

Victoria's gazed was unfocused as she clung desperately onto her control. Kingsley took his place opposite her. "That temper is going to get you into trouble one day," he muttered more to himself. He pushed on cup towards her and continued, "what is in the file?"

"Some bullshit that I don't care about."

"Victoria."

"I don't get paid to be here." She thew the folder onto the table just dodging the mug of tea. "What would happen if I died on one of these "assignments"? Would anyone actually care? Or would they just be disappointed that they lost one of their favourite toys?"

"Is that what you're upset about? Because the Ministry won't pay you?"

"I was raised to fight. I was forced to fight, and now I fight for the Ministry. But what if I don't want to?" Her voice had lost its bitterness. She stared at the cup of slowly cooling tea. "What if I want to just sit in a garden and watch the birds...? I'm tried of having no choice in my life... I'm tired of fighting for people who don't care about me."

He wore a look of sympathy. "We have to work for what we want. Nothing in this world is free. You want to leave this place, then show them you are just as good as any auror. Show them you can be trusted," said Kingsley.

"Haven't I?"

"He gave you your wand back didn't he?" The wizard saw no change in her expression, he sighed, "Finish this assignment and if the Minister won't let you go, then I will help you leave." Kingsley placed his hand over hers, "I promise."

Victoria eyes flicked to meet his, "You'd do that?"

"Of course, you're my friend." Kingsley watched has she fought a smile of her own. It was in rare moments that the girl before him would open up about how she truly felt and Kingsley was grateful that she trusted him enough to talk openly, he only wished she would do it more. He does not know the extent of what she survived but her fears of a stranger's touch, of small places, of the dark and her unmatched skills told him enough. He knew Victoria had suffered unimaginable things at the hands of the Death Eaters, but she would never talk about it. She would never complain. She just suffered in silence behind a steel mask and high walls, with only the smallest and rarest outbursts of tears and frustration.

"Thank you," she muttered weakly. She feared showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, but sometimes she could not help it. Victoria shifted in her seat, uncomfortable in the somber atmosphere she change the subject, "I'm supposed to help with a tournament at _Hogwarts_."

"Hogwarts is a school," informed Kingsley, happy that the mood had changed. "And I believe you're talking about the Triwizard Tournament. I hear its going to be quite something."

"Lucky me," Victoria spoke into her tea as she took a sip.

"Maybe going to a school will be good for you. You'll be around people who are closer to your own age." The wizard picked up the folder and read the first page. "Says here you're going to be providing assistance to the contestants if they find themselves in mortal danger."

"I would have thought schools would have policies against putting their students in harms way."

"They do, but this is an exception. Besides they have the best witch in the business protecting them."

"Fantastic. How many am I babysitting?"

"Three. One from each school and only when they are in the arenas. You're not supposed to give them help before hand, that is down to them..."

Victoria drank her tea and listened to Kingsley as he read out everything that would be expected of her. She thought about the school and imagined what it would look like. Would it be small or large? Maybe it would be like the Ministry, all prim and proper with black titles and golden patterns. She wondered what the students and teachers would be like. Would they look down on her, fear her? Suddenly the prospect of going to this school did not sound so great after all - but only time could tell.


	4. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Chapter Three**

 _Welcome to Hogwarts_

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry out did Victoria's expectations by a long shot. Nestled between rocks on top of a cliff was the huge stone castle. Victoria would always remember her first sight of it. The last of the golden evening sunlight had streamed in between the great towers making the school appear as if it had been faintly glowing upon the hill, giving the castle a truly magical appearance.

Victoria, Ludo and Mr. Crouch had been invited into the castle by a large man who had a dark brown bushy beard, long, tangled hair and a Scottish accent. They were lead through a two-story-high door that look like it could belong in a chapel; then down a few corridors with walls accented with portraits that welcomed them. The interior of the castle had a medieval touch. Along with the paintings there were suits of armour and standing flame-torches lining each side of the stone corridors. Eventually, they reached a long hall filled with hundreds of students. They were sat at four, equally spaced, long tables stretching down the length of the room; eating, drinking and talking about whatever held their interest. Very few had noticed the new guests enter and the ones that did payed little to no attention.

The Great Hall was something both muggle and magical architects would marvel at. It belonged in a cathedral more than it did a school. To illuminate the room someone had charmed what must be thousands of candles to float a few of meters above the students. Although the most impressive part was the ceiling; charmed to look like the night sky, stars and wispy clouds included... The whole room was absolutely magnificent.

Victoria's roaming eyes were brought back to the men in front of her as they were greeted by an aged wizard who wore a silver robe with a simple pattern embroidered on the open collar. He had long, white hair with a small hat on top, a silver beard and half-moon glasses that sat low on his nose.

"Welcome, Bartemius, I hope you had a pleasant journey?" The silver haired wizard asked, offering his hand in greeting.

"Albus. As pleasant as it could be, thank you," Barty replied, shaking the man's hand. "If you would allow me to introduce my company. I believe you already know Mr. Ludo Bagman our Head of Magical Games and Sports Department"

"Ah, yes. Ludo. Welcome." Dumbledore shook his hand. After releasing Ludo's hand he turned to Victoria, who was standing rigidly. "And you my dear, must be Miss Nightingale?" Most surprisingly he didn't offer his hand, instead he gave a small nod in recognition, almost as if he knew she would not like it.

"Wonderful to finally meet you." Victoria genuinely was happy to meet the wizard. She had read about Dumbledore and heard rumours of his grand abilities.

"And you my dear, I have heard many things about you," he said. Victoria was thrown off-guard, the cryptic sentence along with the Headmasters shrewd smile could have meant many things. She panicked internally, _what did he know?_

There was a sound of a small commotion occurring behind them. A long haired, grumpy looking man in a mouldy, brown tail coat had pulled up three chairs to the staff table.

Victoria had been so mesmerised by the rest of the room she had not thought to look behind herself and it could not have shocked her more. There sat at the other end of the table were two men she never thought she see again. Alastor Moody and Severus Snape. Her breath caught in her throat, she wanted to run to Alastor, her mentor, but at the same time she wanted to avoid the dark haired professor. She could not be more conflicted.

However, her dilemma was resolved (sort of) when Mr. Crouch pointed to the seat on the end of the table and instructed her to sit.

"Why, didn't you tell me he would be here?" Victoria whispered angrily at who took the seat next to her.

"I assumed you'd know. It was in the Daily Prophet a couple of weeks ago - a whole article." He shrugged and plated himself some of the food that was in front of them.

"An article in the Daily Prophet about Alastor Moody. Do you still have a copy? I could do with some entertainment."

"In the eyes of the Ministry he is still as dangerous as those articles say he is. Most do not trust him current position at this school, his paranoia could bring harm to the children," Mr. Crouch argued.

Victoria looked at him disbelieving. "You trusted him with me."

Mr. Crouch put down his food and gave Victoria his full attention. "You are different. If he were to snap, you are far more capable of defending yourself. A group of untrained fourteen year olds are not." He ended the small argument by turning away to eat and speak with the company on his right.

Left in alone, Victoria served herself some food and ate quietly as she looked around the room once more this time focusing on the pupils. She had noticed that some of the students were wearing different robes to the others, some in blue and others were in fur lined with red. Victoria presumed they were the students from the visiting schools. Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang Institute, if she remembered correctly.

The witch watched and slowly picked her dinner until the attention of the entire population of the hall was brought to Dumbledore, who was stood in front of the staff table.

"Good evening Hogwarts and Guests, I hope you have enjoyed your meals. I'd like to begin by welcoming our Ministry friends, Mr. Barty Crouch, Mr. Ludo Bagman, and finally Miss Victoria Nightingale. All of which are here to organise and monitor the Triwizard Tournament."

The students did not have a massive reaction to the news of the tournament, Dumbledore must have announced it earlier when the other schools arrived, before they had come.

"The casket, if you please, Mr. Filch." Dumbledore gestured towards the main doors of the hall. A few seconds later, the grumpy man from earlier walked in carrying a jewel covered case.

The headmaster smiled at his students excitement and started to speak over their volumes. "There will be three tasks, spread out over the school year and they will test the champions in many different ways... their magical powers – their daring – their powers of deduction – and of course their ability to cope with danger." He paused for a moment as the hall fell silent at the mention of danger.

"As you know there will be three champions; one per school. They shall be marked on their performance and the highest scoring champion at the end of the three tasks shall win the Triwizard Cup. Our champions will be chosen by an imperial selector; the Goblet of Fire." The wizard tapped the top of the casket with his wand and the top creaked open. Dumbledore reached in and pulled out the Goblet of Fire. It was a large wooden goblet with blue flames burning out of the top, rather unimpressive if anyone asked Victoria. He explained how to enter and the age limits of the competition as he placed it on top of the now closed chest.

"Finally I wish to impress upon any of you wanting to compete that this tournament is not to be entered lightly. Once a champion has been selected, he or she must compete to the end of the tournament. The dropping of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart." He stood silently and watched his students and guests alike, letting his words sink in.

"Now I think it's time for bed. Goodnight to you all," Dumbledore said lightly. On his word, the students got up from their places and begun to make their out of the hall.

Victoria took her chance, whilst the students and some of the teachers left their seats the witch shot up and jogged down the table to her old mentor. She was eager to speak with Alastor, it had been months since she had last heard from him.

The estranged man was something of a father figure to her. His inability to maintain a good social status was something she shared with him. In the first weeks of her stay at the Ministry, people would tip toe around her, nervous that the wrong move would cause an unwarranted and violent reaction. Alastor was the only one with the balls to approach her with more than a wary smile. And despite his reputation for hating anyone even remotely associated with Death Eaters, Alastor firmly believed that a child could not be capable of such monstrous acts. He understood her fear and anger, and pulled her out of her stupor, showing her a world she never knew existed. His insanity was her saviour, the connection she needed.

Without warning someone stepped into Victoria's path. Her fast reflexes were the only thing that stopped her from crashing into them.

"So you're name is Victoria," said Viktor Krum

The famous quidditch player was wrapped up in a large fur robe, his close shaved head hidden under a matching fur hat. He wore a grin too, crossing his arms at the witch as if he had revealed a monumental piece of information. Victoria fought hard not to roll her eyes.

A pair of large hands clamped down of Krum's shoulders with a little shake, the owner coming to stand behind him. The white robed Bulgarian fixed his eyes onto Victoria, looking her up and down. There was a small glint in his eye, something that made her marginally uncomfortable.

"Igor Karkaroff," he introduced himself, offering his hand.

Victoria ignored his greeting, looking him directly in the eye she said, "I know who you are."

Igor was not insulted by her dismissal, he dropped his hand and then glanced at her covered marked forearm. The witch followed his gaze and tucked her hands behind her back under her cloak.

He leered at her, "I hear you're a remarkable dueller, Miss Nightingale. Able to take on more than one opponent at a time." He stepped into her space forcing her to look up at him. "Quite the achievement for a witch so young. How did you come to learn such skills?"

She did not back down. Holding her ground she and keeping a firm eye contact spoke lowly, "I think you already know, Karkaroff."

His smirk grew, "Yes. I see it now, that darkness within the blue." The Bulgarian headmaster moved away with a quiet laugh, "Now I see why _He_ had such faith in you."

Her confidence dropped. Artic eyes widening as the air left her lungs. She gulped a breath fearful of his next move.

"Come, we must return to the ship." Igor seem pleased with her reaction as he directed his prized student away from the table, passing a few farewells on their way out.

She watched him leave, he had only meant to taunt her. Victoria felt her temper flare. Her teeth clicked together, jaw locking tightly. _He dared to say such things in front of this many people? With the Ministry so close?_

The witch felt weak, his words had got under her skin too easily. She looked back at the table occupants. There was one person who would make her feel in control again and he was gone. Alastor's chair was empty. Victoria scanned the gradually depleting sea of students and found him hobbling out of the hall on his old wooden leg.

 _How can he move so fast with a leg like that?_ She slipped back down the table and out of the side door being careful to avoid the attention of anyone. The halls were flooded with students all heading in mixed directions. Victoria stuck to the edges as she wormed her way through the groups after Alastor.

She chased him down through what felt like half of the castle only to loose sight of him around a corner. When the witch made the turned she blew a frustrated sigh. He was gone. There were no doors in the passage but an intersection that went in two different directions. With no sign of him down either corridor, she had no idea where he could have gone.

"Looking for something?" A familiar monotonous voice drifted from behind her.

"Nothing that concerns you, Severus," she spat. Victoria had no interest in staying for a conversation with this particular man from her history. She swivelled on her heel and strode past him. The moment she was in line with his shoulder Snape's hand shot out to grab her arm.

The witch immediately yanked her appendage free and jumped away from the professor. Her eyes narrowed into bitter blue slits, "Don't touch me."

"You -"

"I don't want your words," she interrupted him, "so keep them to yourself."

Her legs carried her away, around bends and through the long corridors. Her head hurt, the ache caused by too many unwanted surprises. After a few wrong turns and quick corrections she found herself approaching the main doors to the Great Hall. There were no students left just a few mingling teachers and the obnoxiously loud Ludo Bagman.

Victoria did not return to the table, opting to sit on the steps. She let her head fall into her hands as she massaged the side of her sore mind.

"Where have you been Nightingale?" Asked Mr. Crouch's in his usual commanding tone. She was far too tired and rattled to be affected by him.

"Nowhere, Sir," she sighed and contemplated what the hell she had got herself into.


	5. A Lack of Control

**Chapter Four**

 _A Lack of Control_

* * *

The following morning found Victoria sitting atop a made bed in fresh robes, reading a book on muggle science. Despite using a sleep draught, the witch had awoken in the earlier hours of the morning shaking in a cold sweat. Once again, nightmares had cruelly stolen her sleep. It was a common occurrence but something she would never grow used to.

The sun streamed through the open curtains illuminating the Gryffindor coloured room. The Ministry had decided that Victoria was to stay at Hogwarts for the duration of the tournament and so the school graciously provided her with a private dorm. It was a rather extravagant room that housed a fireplace and small sitting area, along with her own bathroom.

Victoria flickered her gaze to the clock and folded her book away. Breakfast time.

Slipping off the bed and putting her shoes on, the witch strolled to the Great Hall. Having memorised the route the night before, she found herself at the doors in no time.

Food had already been splayed out on the tables in between pumpkins and halloween decorations. Victoria sauntered up to the professors' table only to find that there was no chair available.

"Am I not allowed breakfast?" She questioned Mr. Crouch who was tucking into his morning meal.

"The Ministry wishes you to engage with people closer to your own age. You'll be having meals with students from now on," he explained.

 _What?_ Not a month ago the Minister was stating she was dangerous enough to go to Azkaban and now they wanted her to socialise with kids? Victoria frowned, "is this a joke?"

"The Ministry -"

"You're not joking."

Mr. Crouch sighed deeply, "go and make some friends, Nightingale."

He turned back to his conversation with Ludo and ignored her presence. Victoria huffed, any remanence of a good mood had deflated. She picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and said, "no thank you, Sir." Then walked away.

She got half way down the hall before someone shouted at her.

"Oi! Ministry girl!" A dark skinned boy with dreadlocks bellowed. He was stood up on top of the bench waving her over. Victoria rose a brow at the boys odd behaviour, but stopped nonetheless.

"I assume you're talking to me?" She asked him.

"Yeah, is it true you killed three Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup?"

Victoria eyes darted around at the people surrounding the boy, she could not believe that he practically yelled the question. A small collection of students stopped eating and looked at her, she recognised most of them from tents at the World Cup when she went to collect Ludo. Victoria shifted back on her heels, "I didn't kill them."

"But you did take down three Death Eaters at the same time on your own?" The strange boy questioned her again. The group around them were listening attentively, awaiting her answer.

She frowned and parted her lips, unsure what to say, "...yes?"

"Wicked," chorused the pair of twins and the strange boy.

"Right." Victoria nodded and gave them a tight smile prior to departing again. The witch barely made it three steps when the twins beckoned her attention once more,

"Oi, where are you going?"

"I'm leaving." She pointed towards the doors. "I thought that was obvious."

"Why are you doing that? You haven't had breakfast yet," said one of the twins.

"Sure I have." Victoria tossed the shiny apple in her hand and promptly left the hall before anyone could stop her again.

 **ϟ**

She took her time exploring all the passageways of Hogwarts, getting a little bit lost every so often. By midday, Victoria had nearly the whole school mentally mapped. The witch had said to herself that she was learning her environment in case of an emergency, but truths be told she wanted to avoid the inevitable. She needed more sleeping draught and she could only get it from one of two places. Her first option was Severus Snape which was instantly put it out of the question and so she was left with the hospital wing.

Dumbledore had told her where to find the wing and a little bit about the witch who ran it, so she had somewhere to go if she got hurt. She really wished he had not, at least then she could have avoided it a little bit longer. All the same, Victoria stood outside the open doors, looking down at the uniform white beds alined neatly along the wall. She hated hospitals, the sterile smell irked her stomach.

Sucking it up the witch slowly descended the steps into the room. Just at the bottom the stairs was a little office off to the right, where she found shelves of potions and a short slim woman in a nurses uniform.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Victoria spoke and the little matron's head shot up.

"Oh hello!" She greeted coming to the door of the office. "You must be the young lady from the Ministry, Victoria isn't it?"

"Yes." She nodded, her lips stretched thinly. "I was wondering if you could help me."

"Of course dear, what is it you need?" Madam Pomfrey had a very friendly smile, warm and welcoming.

"A sleeping draught. The stronger the better."

"I see." Her bright grin dropped and she turned to the shelves behind her. "What is it to block? Nightmares, insomnia?"

"Oh you know, a bit of this, a bit of that."

She turned from the shelves to flash Victoria a questioning look, "I need to know, dear. I don't want to give you the wrong dosage. I won't judge you, whatever it may be but I need you to be honest, what it is you struggle with?"

Self-consciousness clawed at her chest desperate to stop her from exposing her vulnerabilities. "Everything," Victoria forced in a murmur. She knew the matron had heard her because she had suddenly froze, only for a second but it was long enough for Victoria to notice. The dark haired witch closed her eyes and bowed her head in shame, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"This will last your stay here at Hogwarts. Here you go, dear." Madam Pomfrey noticed that Victoria was looking at the ground so she took her hand to place the large vial into it. However, the young witch snatched her hand away with lightning speed, sending the vial into a free fall. The draught shattered upon impact, coating the immaculate floor with purple potion. Victoria stepped back from the mess, broken glass crunching beneath her feet.

"Oh Merlin!"

Victoria looked up at the nurse. Her eyes wide with the slightest hint of fear embedded within the blue. She spluttered, "the Ministry will reimburse -"

"No, no, it was my fault." Madam Pomfrey raised her hands, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

Victoria's hands clenched and loosened as she willed her heart to return to it's normal rate. She stared, fixed in place whilst the matron cleaned up the ruined draught and brought her a new one. This time she let Victoria take the vial from her hand.

Thankfully the tension was cut by a shriek of laughter. Two red-headed twins tumbled down the steps of the hospital wing now sporting matching long grey hair and beards. The loud amusement came from the strange boy with dreads who followed the brothers into the ward.

"Ah Weasleys, I was wondering when I'd see the pair of you," exclaimed Madam Pomfrey. She threw her hands to her hips. "Tried to cross the age line did we?"

"Of course we did! You've got to try things..." One twin started.

"...or you'll never learn. Besides we taught ourselves to brew an ageing potion," the other finished.

"See there's more than one lesson learnt from this," said their friend who came to stand next to the twin, fighting to keep his snickers at bay.

Victoria felt the corners of her lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile. Their humorous behaviour acting as a distraction.

"You're a pair of fools." The matron shooed them over to a bed and journeyed back into the office.

The young witch watched the trio bicker about who was the biggest fool, playfully pushing each other around. She felt a quiet laugh escape her lips. The sound drew their attention, all three of them finally took notice of her presence in synchronised formation.

Shifting under their gaze Victoria said, "better to be a witty fool, than a foolish wit," and without another word she fled the hospital wing, escaping any chance of further exposure.

The second Victoria stepped into her room she felt the deep set fury dominate her very being; having kept it bottled up, the lid had finally burst. She could not believe how stupid she had been. The witch cursed her weakness, she could do better than that. She glared at the potion in her fist contemplating if it was really worth the cracks in her stoic image.

 _No, it's not._ Victoria threw the vial onto the bed and stormed to the window. She flung it open - the hinges creaking under the force - and leant against the sill. Her head was in her hands, fingers knotted tightly between her loose hair.

A light autumn wind wafted the dark strands and begun to cool the fire inside her. Nature had always been her strongest anchor. The scent and touch of fresh air eradicated any fears or heightened emotion. Grounding her back into a world of peace and reality. Victoria inhaled deeply and lifted her head from her hands. The crisp breezecaressed her flushed cheeks, so gentle as if Mother Nature had extended her hand to comfort the distraught witch. A bristling hostility still fizzed beneath her skin but she found herself in more control.

With the reins back in her hands, Victoria observed the courtyard below her window, the height was somewhat unsettling but not too bad considering she was only on the second floor. A few students were flicking basic charms and hexes back and forth, critiquing each other on their technique. They laughed together at their mistakes, gladly helping each other to correct their blunders. Jealously twisted inside her as see watched them, envious of their carefree learning.

They looked young, perhaps only in their first few years of Hogwarts. Their youthful ignorance shielded them from the forbidding darkness that lingered around their world. Keeping them blind to all but joy. She almost pitied them, because if the dark did shroud the light none of them would be prepared.

Victoria's thoughts switched to the tournament, she believed it to be the closest thing the students would see to the real dangers of the magical world they cherished so dearly. In just a few short hours the champions were to be selected and their fate would be set on a path of life threatening tasks, all for the chance of fame, glory and fortune. It puzzled her that wizards under the age limit would attempt to enter such a perilous challenge, perhaps she was wrong, maybe they were foolish wits after all.

The witch travelled back into the shelter of her room and reclined on the sofa, book in hand. She laid back allowing the peculiar muggle theories to distract her until it was time for the choosing ceremony.

 **ϟ**

Victoria had prepared to find no extra seat at the professors' table, however the residing bitterness from the morning and midday happenings forced her tongue to spit sour words, "where am I sitting?"

"I told you this morning," said Mr. Crouch. He had not even bothered to look at her when he answered, keeping his focus solely on a very short professor that was propped up on some cushions.

Her hand rolled into a fist and her teeth ground together. "With all due respect Sir, I'd rather not."

"It's not your decision." Mr. Crouch turned to her. His gazed hardened, challenging her to argue.

With her frustrations rising Victoria played her last card. She rested on the edge of the table, leaning in closer so no one would hear her next words. Swallowing her pride she said lowly, " _please_."

Rather than being swayed by her rare moment of manners his jaw rolled, teeth grinded. "No."

And her composure broke. Her fist slammed against the table, the cutlery and plates jumped from the ferocity of her outburst.

"Control your temper Nightingale, or the Ministry will." He was calm but anyone with eyes could see the storm stiring behind his cold brown glare. "Now go and find a seat."

If she pushed harder she could loose everything, all the progress she had made at the Ministry - her wand - her life. Victoria could hear Kingsley's words resonate through her mind, commanding her to be clever and stand down. Biting her tongue, she stormed away rather than letting anything happen that she would later regret.

A hand shot out and grabbed her, before she had time to react the strong grip yanked her onto the bench. Her back hit the table, but pain was no distraction. Victoria drew her wand and had it under the chin of the perpetrator in a tick of a second. She pushed it harder against the bone until they let go.

"Sorry," a familiar voice spoke. The red haze in her eyes cleared enabling her to see who was under the subjection of her wand. It was one half of the redheaded twins, he had his hands in the air and a wary smile thinned his lips.

His identical brother next him said, "we couldn't help but notice your seating problem. Thought you could sit with us."

Victoria contemplated leaving, but she had to be present for the selection it was part of her job. The witch searched the room for another place to sit but every space on the benches had been taken. Sighing, she dropped her wand and glared at the twin who dared to grab her. "Don't ever touch me."

"Noted," he said, dropping his hands. His smile turned brighter, apparently all ready past the aggressive behaviour he was just subject to. "I'm George by the way."

"And I'm Fred." His twin bent around him to give a little wave.

"And that's Lee," they chorused and pointed towards the strange boy sat opposite them.

"Anyway Tora, why are they being picky about where you sit?" George asked nodding his head to the professors' table.

Her eyes narrowed. "My name is _Victoria_ ," she said, ignoring his question.

"Right, but we thought you worked with the Ministry," Lee commented.

"I do."

"Then why don't you sit with them?" Fred joined in.

Victoria frowned. She got the feeling they were not going to drop the subject. She spared a glance at each of them and said, "there are no chairs left."

"You could have pulled one up," said George.

She had another look around the room for a spare seat at the end of any table, but she found none again and her hopes flopped. "There is no room."

"You sat up there yesterday," Fred countered with no hesitation. Their coordination astounded Victoria, it was like they had rehearsed it and knew exactly what she was going to say.

"Yesterday was a different day, and had different circumstances."

"You're right, so why have they changed their minds?" Lee asked like it was the first time, the repetition did not seem to bother any of them.

Victoria huffed, "you're all infuriatingly persistent."

"Thank you," they chorused.

"Not a compliment," she said with a short light laugh.

"So why are they being picky?"

The witch sighed, with nowhere else to go she would not escape their recurring questions. Seeing no other option she answered then truthfully, "because they want me to socialise with my own age group."

"Wait," A completely different ginger boy chimed in, "how old are you?"

"I'm seven -" She stopped short. Her conscious mind had suddenly taken notice of the holiday decorations spread out on the tables and walls. It was Halloween, the thirty-first of October, it was Victoria Nightingale's birthday. It was not uncommon for her to forget the day, but the discovery still brought shock to her system. Another year gone and she was no closer to freedom, no closer to finding a proper home. Inhaling deeply she sighed, "eighteen. I'm eighteen."

"No way!" The girl sat on her left side exclaimed. Her ruler straight red hair was cut just below her shoulders. Freckles dotted across her face, over her nose and under her acorn eyes that were alight with astonishment. "We thought you were at least twenty!"

"How did you score a job at the Ministry at eighteen?!" Fred was equally as surprised.

Victoria's eyes flickered between the fiery haired students. It took a second but she made the connection. They were Weasleys. She recognised the striking similarities to Mr. Crouch's newest personal assistant, Percy Weasley, she believed his name to be. Testing her theory she said, "the same way your brother did - I'm good at what I do."

"You're friends with Percy?" The twins questioned with matching cringes.

 _So I'm right. They are Weasleys,_ she thought.

"No, I only met him a week ago." Victoria shrugged. "Bit pretentious for my taste."

The twins, Ron and Lee all laughed and nodded, agreeing with her statement. The others soon introduced themselves as Hermione, Ginny, Ron and none other than Harry Potter. He was a lot scrawnier than Victoria had pictured. The group did not leave her alone, pestering her with consistent questions about the quidditch world cup (when they had first seen her), her job at the Ministry, and general small talk. Victoria fired back with plain one word answers, until her old mentor was mentioned.

"So you're obviously in the field a lot, have you ever worked with Mad Eye?" Ron asked.

The query took her by surprise. Alastor was still a touchy subject, given that he was actively trying to avoid her. "Yes. On a few occasions."

They all seemed to approve of her answer, aside from Hermione who was a little put off by the news. A slight frown pushed her thin brows down, her brown eyes flashed with worry.

Fortunately she was saved from further interrogation because Dumbledore had announced the start of dinner. Food appeared in front of them, a wide selection suiting anyones particular wants or needs. Victoria ate with the finest etiquette compared to the boys sat around her. She wondered if Ron actually breathed in between mouthfuls, but despite her concerns they all made it through the meal without choking. Whilst the others piled up their plates with dessert Victoria sat quietly, fiddling with the ends of her selves.

"Not going to have pudding, Tora?" George asked after witnessing the distinct lack of sweets on her plate.

"Sugar increases stress and makes you lethargic," she said dropping her sleeve. She turned her focus to him. "Two things I could do without."

George was unconvinced. A small shake of his head he leant down the table over his twin and plucked one strawberry from a bunch. "I don't believe in not having pudding so here - small, sweet and completely harmless." He held the little fruit in front of her.

Victoria stared at him, unsure of what he was trying to achieve. Her eyes held his, hunting for an answer but found nothing except a few golden and green specks nestled within the dark malt. Her study dropped down past his freckled nose and cheeks to his lips, they were not hiding or fighting away any teasing smirk or cruel grin. They were not plump like her own either, instead they were stretched wide in a charming smile.

George cleared his throat knocking her out of her wandering search, "I know I've got a handsome face but you're going to have to take this at some point."

Victoria stiffened and swiftly faced away. The witch heard his airy chuckle and felt the subtle shift of his weight on the bench. She risked a quick glimpse, he had eaten the strawberry himself and returned to a conversation with his twin.

"I hope our champion is Angelina," Fred spoke up, directing his voice down the table gaining the attention of all of his friends.

"So do I." Hermione nodded.

"Yeah, would be good to have a Gryffindor champion!" Ron agreed, before shoving a huge helping of food into his mouth.

"Dean and Seamus told us that Diggory put his name in and some Slytherin," Harry mentioned to the twins.

"Anything but Slytherin," Ron was quick to grumble.

Taking a quick look back to the professor's table, Victoria could see a very excited Ludo Bagman practically bouncing in his seat whilst winking a several students. Mr. Crouch on the other hand looked incredibly bored.

"The Goblet is almost ready to choose our champions, just another minute or so." Dumbledore spoke over the chatter, which caused most of the hall to fall silent. "I ask that those who are chosen to join us up at the staff table and then make their way into the next chamber where they will be receiving the first instructions." He gestured to the door that the chosen champions were to travel through.

The headmaster used his wand to extinguish all lights in the hall apart from the candles in the pumpkins which remained flickering a dim glow in the centre of the tables. The room was immersed into a dramatic state of darkness, the main light source was the Goblet itself. Every student had stopped eating in anticipation, a few whispered and checked their watches.

"Any second now!" Lee whispered excitedly.

Seconds after Lee had spoken the flames in the Goblet rose higher and turned a deep shade of red with sparks flying out from the sides. The fire crackled and released one huge burst of flame, sending a piece of burnt parchment into the air.

Dumbledore caught it as floated down and read it aloud, "the champion for Durmstrang is... Victor Krum!"

The hall erupted into cheers as the famous quidditch seeker stood from his place at the Slytherin table and made his was to the Headmaster.

"No surprises there!" Ron clapped and cheered along.

A brief congratulations from the Ministry and the Headmaster, Krum took his parchment and exited into the side chamber. The students' cheers diminished awaiting the Goblet's next champion. Like the first time the blue flames burnt red and another parchment was shot into the air.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour!" Announced Dumbledore.

"It's her Ron!" Harry shouted to his best friend over the cheers. Victoria studied the new champion, she had long silvery blonde hair and beautiful features, it was no wonder that half of the men she was currently walking past swooned at her.

"They look a bit disappointed," said Hermione, tilting her head in the direction of the Beauxbaton students. Peering over her shoulder, Victoria could see two girls dressed in the French blue uniforms crying to themselves.

One last time the Goblet lit up into red fire and shot out the last champion. "The Hogwarts champion is... Cedric Diggory!" The cheer for Cedric was certainly the loudest. All of the Hufflepuff students jumped to their feet to applaud their champion. Screaming, chanting and stomping their feet as he made his way up to the headmaster to receive his parchment.

"I have to go – Ministry Business." Victoria excused herself. Without waiting for any response she made her way down the gap in the tables towards Mr. Crouch and Ludo who were standing close to the chamber door where the champions were waiting.

"Excellent! Now we have our three champions. I am sure that I can count on every single student, guests and all to give them your full support. Cheering your champion on during the tasks will –"

Dumbledore was cut off by the Goblet starting to crackle once more. The flames turned red, sparks flew from the sides, and a fourth piece of parchment shot out of the cup. Every single person in the hall was silent, watching the unknown name float into Dumbledore's awaiting hand. There was a long silence as the Headmaster looked at the name in disbelief.

Clearing his throat, he read aloud...

"Harry Potter."

* * *

 _ **AN: A bit of interaction with the main crew. Victoria is a complete wreck with a temper. Harry Potter is screwed (but we all knew that was going to happen)**_

 _ **"Better to be a witty fool than a foolish wit." - William Shakespeare**_


	6. Finest Deception

**Chapter Five**

 _Finest Deception_

* * *

Victoria was stunned, and she was not the only one. The hall was stuck in the tense embrace of unanswered questions. People were confused, jealous, or enraged that the so called Golden Boy had been picked for a lifetime opportunity. She stared blankly ahead, her thoughts swimming in uncertain patterns. She did not know what to think. There was no way Harry would have been able to cross the age line, that Dumbledore had drawn, without help. None of his friends were old enough disrupt or traverse over the age line for him.

 _Unless it wasn't one of his friends_ , she thought.

Even though their interactions had been limited to a brief introduction, Harry did not strike Victoria as the type of person to bribe or blackmail. He had seemed quite reserved at dinner, only really talking to his friends. The witch did not believe that he would seek more attention than his name already brought.

 _So maybe whoever tampered with the contest doesn't like Harry?_ Victoria played with the idea but shook it way. However small, there was still a chance that he could win the tournament. Someone who does not like him would have noted that factor and gone for something more direct, with less possibility for him to become a victor.

 _Maybe someone just wants to see him compete?_ Victoria snuffed the idea. _No - no._ _What would be the point?_ A devoted fan would not put their idol in that much danger for the sake of seeing him run around in some tasks.

Victoria drew a blank and left her theories behind, because in that moment Harry was tucked away in a room filled with people who were against him and she would not stand for that. The witch could solve the problem later.

Slinking into the room, she stuck to the perimeter and gradually edged her way to the youngest wizard. The space was packed full with nearly every Hogwarts professor, the guest Headmaster and Mistress, The Ministry and the competitors.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," Fleur sneered at Ludo, "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young!"

"Yes, well however he managed it, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. By the rules of the tournament you're all obligated to compete. Harry will just have to do the best he can," Ludo explained.

Victoria passed unnoticed, they were all too focused on bickering with each other to register another presence. She stood beside Harry, who looked just as frightened as he did when he collected his parchment from Dumbledore.

"I think it's stupid. They're arguing over something that's painfully obvious," said Victoria. Harry's head snapped in her direction. His expression was tight and narrowed, he was waiting for her to oppose him like the others had. Instead she smiled meekly and shrugged. "The Boy Who Lived or not, there is no way you're talented enough to best Dumbledore's magic."

"Didn't you hear? I got some else to put my name in the Goblet." Harry voice was strained.

The witch snorted quietly, mildly amused by his snark. "No you didn't. You're terrified. There is no way you had anything to do with this."

A silence settled between them as they watched the adults argue back and forth. Victoria saw Alastor by the fireplace he was grumbling in between the recurring complaints from Madam Maxime and Karkaroff.

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but I don't hear himsaying a word."

"Why should 'e complain?" Fleur cried out. She stomped her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money — zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter isgoing to die for it," said Alastor. A dark ambience chocked the room into silence. Every magical being present considered the possibility, even Harry did going by the poorly hidden dread on his face.

"I don't believe they are trying to kill him." Victoria's voice struck the taut atmosphere. All eyes turned to her, Mr. Crouch looked furious, the others awaited her opinion. "It's the Triwiazard Tournament," she said as if it explained everything.

"There are those who would turn even the most innocent situation into an opportunity," her old mentor reasoned, his usual whirling mechanical eye was fixed upon her. Victoria felt ever so slightly uneasy under the attention she had gained.

"Perhaps, but the tournament is complex to enter and well guarded during the tasks - there are plenty of much easier ways to kill a boy and remain undetected," she continued, "If anything I would say it's a show of power, except there is no reason for it - none that we know of anyway."

"What are you thinking, Missy?" asked Alastor.

"I don't know yet, but we should be cautious."

"Don't be ridiculous," Mr. Crouch spat, pushing to the front of the crowd. "It was just another student."

Victoria unconsciously stepped forward, meeting her opponent with no fear. Her eyes blazed in a storm of impatience and fierce urgency. "Student or not, there is someone in this castle who knows they can trick the Ministry and one of the most powerful wizards in the world. They evidently know what they are doing. We should alert -"

"That is enough! Stop making this bigger than it is."

"Sir -"

"I said _enough_." Mr. Crouch's voice was authoritative and low. Her jaw snapped shut. The weight of reality settled on her shoulders, forcing them down in defeat. She had raised her voice at her superior. A man she was supposed to respect and follow obediently. And she had done it all in front of an audience.

Mr. Crouch levelled her with a glare that held no room for apologies or arguments as he ordered, "Wait outside Nightingale."

Bowing her head, Victoria bit at her cheeks and submitted to the command.

 **ϟ**

Twenty minutes later and the meeting had started disband. Victoria was leant against the end of the staff table awaiting the Ministry and her impending reprimand. Huddled in her long cloak she watched the occupants of the room leave, until the distinctive thunk of Alastor's bad leg reverted her attention.

"Follow me," he said as he hobbled past her. He did not wait to see if she had complied to his request, the hobbled professor did not need to, he knew she would follow.

Victoria trailed after him without question. Neither spoke during the walk to his office. Instead she allowed the time to be filled by the fleeting sense of déjà vu and the rhythmic sound of synced footfalls. Eventually they came to the door that she had missed a few days ago.

Alastor's office was exactly how Victoria imagined it to be - an absolute mess. It was similar to his own home, cluttered with objects that supposedly hindered dark magic or exposed an unfriendly presence. Tracing her finger along the edge of a turning mirror, she saw Alastor in the reflection drop heavily into his chair with a disgruntled huff.

"You believe Potter then? You think someone else is behind this?" He asked. His walking staff clasped in one hand the other rubbing his wooden leg, probably sore from the walk to his office.

Victoria sat in the rickety chair opposite him, it creaked and wobbled under her weight. Clasping onto the arm rests she steadied herself before answering, "anyone who doesn't is either blind or an idiot. The Ministry is an exception - they're both."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing, or did you miss the part where I was downtrodden." She titled her head, Moody should already know that. "The Ministry would have my head if they found out I went against their orders. It doesn't matter if my intentions are good."

"So you're going to leave the boy defenceless?"

Victoria sat back, her posture stiff. She eyed her mentor carefully, unsure of the game he was playing. She had always understood his paranoia but never his methods. "Harry won't come to any harm during the tasks. None of the champions will."

"You're here to protect them."

"They're calling it _insurance."_ She rolled her eyes. The insurance that she would leap in front of the champions and take the fatal blow if it came down to it. "It's been made very clear that they want no student fatalities in this tournament."

Alastor reclined in his chair, his mechanical eye swivelling wildly in its strap. There was a light tapping coming from his twitching fingers atop his armrest. He looked deep in thought until a rough cough forced its way from his lungs. His shaking hand suddenly dived into his pocket to grab at a flask.

Victoria watched him take several gulps, she was a bit alarmed by the erratic drinking. She had never seen him turn to alcohol or any potion to curb his jitters. He had always claimed that it disallowed the mind to focus, clouding what needed to be seen.

Shoving the flask away like it had offended him, Alastor struggled to conceal his grimace. He rolled his tongue, attempting to rid the foul taste that was left in his mouth from whatever he had drank.

"With you there or not the boy is still unprepared and outmatched in this tournament," said the rugged professor returning to the topic.

Victoria stared away, letting her thoughts turmoil. The Ministry was consistently breathing down her neck. The Minister, just itching for her to slip up and give him the reasoning he needed to lock her away forever. Even if in the long run she was helping, he'd find someway for using it all against her.

On the other hand, Victoria knew that Alastor was right. Harry was barely fourteen with limited experience. He would be completely alone in the tournament and faced with tasks that were designed to challenge competent students at the end of their eduction.

She wanted to do the right thing by Harry but she had only just managed to gather an inkling of trust from the Ministry and the most selfish part of her did not want to throw that way over the boy she was taught to hate.

"You have my word, Potter won't die... but I won't help him cheat." Victoria determined with a dead straight stare.

Alastor was silent as he contemplated. He remain still for several unnerving seconds before he huffed and nodded, accepting the witch's response. Victoria was glad it had been concluded. The pressure of the matter lifted but her shoulders remained tense. There was still the remaining problem of uncovering the person who had put Harry's name in the Goblet.

"What about the person who put him in this situation in the first place?"

"Don't worry about them, they'll raise their head eventually. Just focus on keeping Potter alive." He waved the issue away.

 _Now that's odd,_ Victoria frowned. Never had Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody turned down the hunt of a potential Death Eater. A discomforting sense of detachment washed over her. From the coldness he sent towards her in his abrupt speech and clear avoidance, to the drinking, and now his lack of lawfulness. It was as if during the year they had spent apart he had become someone unfamiliar; to Victoria he was like a completely different person.

 **-:¦:- - -:¦:-** **ϟ** **-:¦:- - -:¦:-**

 **AN: Just a short one because I'm a disappointment.**


	7. Hello Beasty

**Chapter Six**

 _Hello Beasty_

* * *

The days dragged by. It had been two weeks since Victoria had arrived at Hogwarts and so far every single day had been painfully uneventful. There was very little she could do to pass the time. With no fresh leads on who could have possibly put Harry's name in the Goblet, Victoria would often opt to stroll through the grounds in between meals, however at the end of the fortnight she could walk it all blindfolded. The witch would actively avoid being seen by students unless absolutely necessary. She could feel their eyes upon her, hear their whispers. It seemed the rumours of her escapades during the Quidditch World Cup had travelled fast.

The only people she felt even remotely comfortable with were the small group of Gryffindor students that had captured her on the night of the choosing ceremony. Barring the first time, they never spoke about any of the rumours; instead opting to pester her with basic and fruitless questions, like her favourite colour or food. Although she was pleased they did not try to force a recount from her, she remained passive and shrugged off every query with one worded answers.

Victoria wanted them to run out of things to question her about. She wanted to be left alone in solemn and silence, but at the same time, the tiniest, feeblest part of her soaked up the solace she found in being welcome. Without fault, breakfast, lunch and dinner, the twins would pull her between them and make sure she ate every meal. They would bicker with their friends and siblings, laugh at each others jokes and every now and then they would ask about her day, what she did, how she had slept, or Fred's personal favourite, if she'd had any interesting dreams featuring them yet. "Bound to happen sooner or later Tora, I mean look at us - we're a picture of perfection," he would boast frequently.

Despite the routine meals her days were dull. However, it was a different day. It was the day Charlie Weasley would arrive with the dragons for the first task and she would finally have something productive to do.

Majority of the students were still in their beds when Victoria marched her way through the halls during the early hours of Saturday morning. Warm rays of sunlight had begun to seep through the dawn's misty cloak. The chilled autumn air carried a frosty bite, the early signs of winter were starting to show.

Wrapping her cloak tighter around herself, Victoria wandered down a muddy and broken stoned path to the edge of the forest. At the end she found the small circular wooden hut that belonged to the grounds keeper. Wasting no time she knocked on the door hoping to rouse the man quickly. She could hear something fall over inside the hut and a string of curses follow, but soon the door flew open to reveal the giant, bearded man.

"Eh, Victoria?" He looked just the same as he did when he welcome her and the Ministry to Hogwarts. Long bushy strands of thin hair tangled together into a frizzy bush around his head. His beard did not fair any better, it even had a few more visible greys mixed in between the brown.

Victoria gave a sharp nod. His wide and tall frame forced him to shuffle his way through the door. The witch stepped back and asked, "shall I call you Rubeus?"

"Most call me Hagrid."

"Alright." She nodded and rocked on her heels. The freezing air had made her cheeks pink and her body shiver. Impatient to get moving again and warm up she prompted towards the forest. "Are we going then?"

"Of cours', let me get Fang." Hagrid blew a loud whistle and a iron grey Great Dane bounded out the door. Fang did not hang around, he went straight for the forest, leaping over broken branches, yapping happily as he went.

Fang and Hagrid lead Victoria down a thin worn path, as they trekked deeper between the trees she lost sight of the trail. A sense of worry passed through her, she had no idea where she was or how to get out. In that moment the witch was relying on a complete stranger; something she hated doing.

Eventually they reached a large circular clearing which was occupied with a three sandy coloured tents to the far left side and a line of four metal barred cages that held dragons to the right. Two young men were milling about by the tents chatting between themselves, unfortunately neither of them were the man she wanted to speak to.

Leaving Hagrid on the tree line, Victoria stepped carefully trying not to disturb or unintentionally threaten the enormous beasts. However when she got closer her brows crinkled. Strangely enough they looked as if they were asleep. As uneducated as she was about the creatures Victoria knew that dragons would never be this relaxed around other dragons, humans, or in a new place and they were exposed to all three.

Although one might think the witch was lost in her curiosity, Victoria heard the distinct sound of approaching footsteps crunch the twigs beneath their feet. She tensed ever so slightly but allowed them to come near nonetheless.

"A special dragon friendly sleep draught keeps them under for a few hours, just long enough for transport. It makes my life a little bit easier," said the newcomer.

Victoria glanced over her shoulder and there stood behind her was Charles "Charlie" Weasley grinning like a kid on Christmas Day. The similarities to his family was obvious. He had the trade mark features of freckles, brown eyes and ginger hair. Except his bronze locks were slightly dark than his siblings and he chose to wear it in a bun at the nape of his neck.

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley," she greeted with well practiced formality.

"Mr. Weasley?" He chuckled lightly. "I thought you didn't care about introductions."

Victoria rolled her eyes at his subtle mention of her rude behaviour at the World Cup. "There is a time and a place for everything."

"Can't argue with that." He huffed amused, the bright smile never faltering. Charlie was noticeably taller than Victoria, his muscled frame dwarfed her when he positioned himself by her side. Waggling a finger in her face, he continued, "but you know my name -"

"I was briefed."

"- and I don't know yours. That's not fair." Charlie ignored her little interruption and placed his hands on his hips whilst he looked at her with an exaggerated faux authoritative frown.

Victoria stared at him and silently thought, _he is definitely the brother of the twins._ She theorised that the best way to deal with him was exactly like his younger siblings - to the point, with obligated politeness.

"Victoria Nightingale."

"Wonderful to meet you Victoria Nightingale." He adopted his grin once again and offered his hand in the traditional greeting.

The witch pulled a tight smile and overlooked his hand, "the pleasure is all mine."

"Merlin, you're difficult," muttered Charlie. She was sure he meant to keep his words to himself but she could not stop her trained hearing from catching them. Choosing to disregard the comment, the witch tentatively stepped closer to the dragons, wary of her every move.

All four were all tucked into tight balls however, there was enough of them still visible to enable her to identify their features clearly. Charlie had brought a range of dragons with him. The first to catch her eye was a magnificent forest green dragon that had pebble like scales covering the entirety of its body. Pointed horns were scattered in different sizes around its long skull and down its spine.

"Have you never seen a dragon before?" Asked Charlie. Her gazed flicked to him long enough for her to catch his look of amusement. His grin gone in favour of a mirthful smirk.

"I work for Barty Crouch, of course I haven't." Victoria shrugged. "I've only read about them."

"Come on." Charlie tipped his head towards the dragons, urging her to follow him with a small wave. "This is one of my favourites - the Swedish Short Snout."

Charlie crouched down level with the head of a rather elegant dragon with smooth, leathery scales that were pale blue almost silver in colour. Its pointed face was surrounded by six white horns. The biggest two sat on top of its head curling neatly back. The other four horns were considerably smaller and split equally between each side of its head.

Much to Victoria's surprise the handler lent in closer to the bars and stroked the dragon down the length of its nose. He smiled fondly at the beast as if it were a prized horse. "She is definitely the sweetest of them all."

"It won't hurt you?" Victoria tilted her head, amazed that Charlie was able to touch a dragon without suffering a mortal wound.

"Oh she'd take a bite out of me if she were awake," he chuckled and drew his hand away. "Even so, she's less likely to try a harm people out of spite."

It made sense, dragons were famous for being untameable.

"This one," Victoria pointed to the dragon with the sleek scarlet scales mirrored the colour of phoenix feathers. Golden spikes crowned its snub-snouted face, the horns changed in length from the largest at the back of its head to the shorter horns that surrounded its small circular eyes. "It's the Chinese Fireball, right?"

She had read about this dragon. Its origins and ability to form rounded fireballs instead of a stream of flame had entertained her of hours.

"Yeah." Charlie brows rose, he was shocked and a little bit impressed at her knowledge even though it was basic.

"They are known to be one of the most aggressive," she stated confidently. "They'll spit fire at just about anything."

He chuckled at her. "I suppose, you're sort of right. But out of this lot, the Horntail is the one you have to watch out for."

"Horntail?" Victoria queried, looking to him for an explanation.

"The Hungarian Horntail. Regarded to be the most dangerous. Highly aggressive, especially when it comes to protecting their young." Charlie announced. He pointed to the black dragon next to the Chinese Fireball. Covered in rigid black scales from snout to tail. Sharp horns protruded at random angles all over its body. Its club like tail carried spikes that were much bigger than the rest and looked like they could easily maim or even kill someone with the slightest flick. Victoria pitied which ever champion was unlucky enough to face this dragon in the first task.

"You know it kinda has me worried," admitted Charlie. His walnut eyes had lost all mirthfulness in trade for a heavy frown and plain unease.

"Why?"

"Well for one I doubt any of the champions have ever tried to get past a dragon before let alone doing it unprepared. And secondly, I thought the first task was supposed to be the easiest?"

"It is."

"Bloody hell. I suppose it is a good thing you're here to help them out, huh?" He flashed her a small grin. It was undoubtably forced and used in the hope of lightening the situation.

"Well, it depends on how generous I feel on the day," said Victoria. She shifted her gaze back to the dragons for a minutes before changing the subject. "My knowledge is somewhat lacking on these creatures; how do I stop one if I need to?"

Charlie appreciated the switch of topic and answered instantly, "a blinding spell would work, but personally I'd go for a good distraction."

"Simple enough."

" _Simple_? Conjuring physical forms is difficult magic, even for a talented wizard." He crossed his arms and smirked before teasing, "are you sure you're up for it?"

"I can do things you wouldn't believe." Victoria boasted, holding her head high and letting an arrogant smirk pull at her lips.

Charlie licked his bottom lip between his teeth and inched closer to her. Barely a breaths distance apart, he allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch into a smile. "Would you like to show me?"

Victoria was hyperaware of the space between them, or lack there of. He was close, _too close_. Her lungs stalled and her mind screamed for her to run away. Appeasing the yearn she stepped away, consequently surrendering in their little game. She huffed a needed breath and said, "in your dreams Weasley."

"Oh, it will be." Charlie flirted back without missing a beat. He was unbothered by her dismissal and remained a confident player in the game of wits.

She rolled her eyes at his toying smile and reverted her attention to an approaching presence. One of the other gentlemen on site strolled over with a lopsided grin. Despite the chilly morning, he had only the faintest blush of pink on his olive skin. The thick cloak he wore must have protected him from the cold much better than Victoria's Ministry robes.

"Charles, are you going to introduce me to your pretty friend?" His French accent was evident but not heavy. He threw an arm over Charlie's shoulders, it was an awkward angle due to the height difference. The new handler was closer to Victoria's stature than he was Charlie's.

"Marc, this is Victoria." Charlie introduced her. He then leant on his friend's shoulder, eyeing Victoria and whispered loudly, "the Ministry is doing a spot check to make sure we know how to do our jobs."

"So do we pass?" Marc asked, flicking his fringe of thick black curls from his eyes.

Victoria shrugged. She was not really here to check anything, only welcome them to the grounds and make sure they had everything, but she played along, "so long as you all remain dragon _tamers_ not dragon _chasers,_ I don't see there being any problems."

Both of the handlers laughed at her unprofessional answer. Pulling his arm back to his side Marc said, "as much as it pains me to leave your beautiful presence, we must depart - it is feeding time Charles."

"Ah, the best part of the day," the ginger haired wizard groaned. Marc chuckled and gave his shoulder a friendly slap before leaving them.

"You'd best be off, its about to get loud and fiery around here." He gestured her to follow him towards where she had entered the clearing.

Victoria raised a brow at Charlie's declaration. He was supposed to have complete control of the situation, fire and chaos did not make promise of that.

"Relax, we know what we are doing, you however, do not," he said when he noticed her expression.

When they reached the tree line Charlie turned to her and admitted, "you know when I got the message about the Ministry sending someone to welcome us, I didn't expect you."

"Disappointed?"

"Not at all."

Victoria let a smile of her own lift the corners of her lips. She hummed a pleased sound and spun towards Hagrid leaving the oldest of the Weasley children behind. However, before she walked out of hearing distance she shouted back, "don't let the dragons escape Weasley, or it will reflect badly on all of us."

The pleasant sound of Charlie's laughter bounced off of the trees and Victoria retreated from the forest feeling a tingling of happiness.

 **-:¦:- - -:¦:-** **ϟ** **-:¦:- - -:¦:-**

 **AN: Whoops, I'm shipping the wrong ship.**


	8. A Twelve Sickle Bet

Breakfast had been and gone by the time Victoria had returned the school. A number of the students wandered the grounds with their friends, as the hour was still young most discussed what they would do with their weekend. Victoria however knew exactly what she was going to do. With the Ministry pleasantries out of the way she planned to spend her day in the secluded courtyard she had found a few days prior.

After quick trip to her room and a short walk, Victoria was sat on the lone bench in the quiet courtyard with an open book. Not many students visited the area, it did not lead anywhere, just a circular hole in the wall that was decorated with a fountain in its centre. It was a peaceful setting, nothing but the sound of bird song and trickling water.

Of course, peace never lasted long in Hogwarts regardless of how well one would try to hide from the noise.

"Tora!" Two almost identical voices called.

Victoria looked up from the pages of her book to see the pair of twins that she had become so accustomed to. They both settled down on either arm rest of the bench. George leaned over to peak at the text in her hands as Fred pointed out, "we knew we'd find you here. You missed breakfast."

"Where have been?" George asked with a frown pointing to her muddy robes. "You look like you've been for a run in the Forbidden Forest."

"Only this morning." She delivered her nonchalant response and returned her to her reading.

"And what business do you have breaking the rules so early in the morning?" Fred queried with a teasing edge to his voice.

The witch sighed. "I wasn't breaking any rules, I'm not a student," said Victoria without shifting her attention away from the book in her hands.

"I think it was something to do with the tournament, can't be much else."

"I reckon you're on to something there Freddie."

Victoria tried to read but no matter how many times she read the same line over and over it never made sense. They had a substantial and somewhat oppressive presence that distracted her mind and in consequence evoked a steady rise of her short temper.

She wanted to read in peace but seeing as they would not leave her be until they got what they came for, she huffed and slammed her book shut before asking in a tone soaked with disdain, "is there something I can help you with?"

"Fred and I are just about to go to Hogsmeade," said George as they both got up to stand in front of her. "You should join us."

"What's Hogsmeade?"

"It's the village just outside the school grounds. It will be fun and will make a change from your usual routine of brooding." Fred explained and flapped a hand at her.

"I don't brood," Victoria argued. Both of the twins fidgeted whilst they awaited her answer. The witch's posture slumped as she asked, "will there be people?"

"It's a village." Fred deadpanned.

"Then no." The witch leant back and reopened her book. Although reading was not something that would happen at the time she could always pretend. "I'm quite content here."

"You're so boring." Fred sighed dramatically and spun to leave. "Well Georgie we tried, like I promised, now we should go because Lee is probably getting impatient."

Victoria heard the shuffle of George's feet as he joined his brother and then the courtyard became calm again. Victoria peaked up through her lashes making sure they had left. However she was disappointed to see that the pair of them were still present. Her forehead crinkled slightly at the sight, George had caught his twin's shoulder and was whispering in his ear. Fred's expression shifted from an excited grin to a confused frown the more George talked.

"What?" Fred's voice suddenly rose in volume. His brother berated him with a smack to the arm and continued his whispers.

Victoria watched them bicker, they were speaking too far away and too quietly for her to hear what they were saying clearly. They went back and forth, Fred progressively got more and more unhappy until he suddenly stopped midway through an angry mumble to look at Victoria, then back at George.

"You've got to be joking," Fred grumbled.

"You have the money and the list." George sighed heavily. "Please."

Fred's attitude deflated and all his aggravation slipped away. He looked to Victoria once more then rose his brows at his brother. "Lee is not going to let this go, you know that right?"

George breathed a short and relieved laugh before smiling, "I can live with it. I'll see you when you get back."

"Yeah." His twin smirked and wiggled his brows and teased, "be safe."

Fred jumped back with a laugh as George tried to smack him over the head and ran off before he go have another go at him.

She watched them curiously as they split up. Seeing them (or one) as an individual for the first time had felt strange to Victoria. The duo were a double act, it did not make sense to see them apart. Nevertheless, the witch had very little time to dwell on the matter as the lonely twin turned his attention to her.

"You're being left behind," she stated and pointed towards the archway that led out of the courtyard.

George looked back to the arch before he shrugged. "Fred doesn't need me to pick out a few supplies," he said as he took a seat on the bench next to her.

Victoria shifted as far away as she could and stared at him, not quite believing his indifference. "You two are never apart."

"First time for everything," he said with a tiny smile. Although it was not entirely true, he and Fred did spend time apart just not regularly. He nodded to her book and asked, "what are you reading?"

"Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. It's a muggle fiction." Victoria turned the book over and showed him the cover. "It's quite incredible how they have developed such things to compensate for their lack of magic."

"You sound like dad." George sighed and leaned back before he continued with a roll of his eyes, "he has an obsession with all things muggle."

Victoria hummed, unsure of where to take the conversation. She would have spoken about muggles and their technology that she found so fascinating, but given George's reaction to her book she abandoned the topic.

An awkward silence stiffened the ambience between them. Victoria fiddled with the edges of the book. George on the other hand fidgeted a bit as he stared at the cobblestone floor and willed an interesting subject to mind. A few tense seconds later he found one.

"So - er." George scratched the back of his head. "I know you're not supposed to have favourites or anything since you're with the Ministry but who do you think will win the tournament?"

"I've never seen any of them use magic before, I don't have the slightest idea." She tilted her head at him and asked, "who do you think will win?"

"Harry will."

Victoria scrunched her face and shook her head. "Harry is going to struggle. These tasks are meant to test magical and strategical ability. He's fourteen, so it's safe to say that he is probably lacking in those areas."

George did not let up. His lips broke apart in a wide toothy smile that radiated confidence. "Twelve sickles says he wins."

The witch rolled her eyes at his foolish beliefs. "He won't win."

"Twelve sickles." George held out his hand, wanting to shake on it.

"Deal." Victoria nodded. George noticed her disregard of his hand but he paid no mention to it, instead he gave her a friendly smile and maintained the playful talk.

"Prepare to loose Nightingale." His lighthearted taunt earned him a snort and a shake of her head. "You know he killed a basilisk in his second year and saved my sister's life. I have every bit of faith in him to win this tournament," George claimed as if what he had said was minor information.

 _He did what?_ Victoria thoughts stammered. She blinked at the red-haired wizard sat beside her, hunting for any tell of a trick. She searched his face, his hands, his posture and found nothing. No twitch or tick to indicate she was being lied to.

"Do you really expect me to believe that a twelve year old boy killed a fifty foot snake on his own," she finally said, not hiding her bitterness at being taken for a fool.

"It's public knowledge, everyone knows." George wore a smug smile at the sight of her skepticism. "Don't believe me you can ask Ginny."

The more Victoria thought about it the more the impossible became possible. She knows Harry despised the attention he got and that he would never actively try to put himself in the limelight whether through action or fiction. She also knows twelve sickles is hardly worth constructing such an extravagant lie for. As much as she wanted to deny it, the implausible story made too much sense. Victoria rolled back her shoulders and accepted his truth.

"Suddenly I don't feel too confident about that bet," she admitted. Not that it really mattered to her, she had no money to give him if she lost.

He chuckled and exclaimed, "Ah no take backs!"

The witch raised her hands in mock surrender, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

The cheerful conversation had built a light atmosphere and mixed with George's easy going nature, Victoria felt at peace. A sensation she was not familiar with. Questions lacking suitable answers erupted inside her head, her mistrust playing the joker yet again. Her ease tightened as her mind reeled.

"You said the village would be fun," stated Victoria, with a slight accusing tone.

"It is -"

"Then why did you stay here?" Her question had a valid point, or that is what she thought. The twins were always doing something to cause a laugh or smile and Victoria knew her presence was not the most up-lifting. So why he would choose to sacrifice time with his friends for her was perplexing to say the least.

George twiddled his fingers as he sighed and looked down at his hands, stalling his reply. A minute ticked by until he eventually he spoke tenderly, "because if I didn't you'd be alone and you've been by yourself for the last two weeks."

Taken aback by his answer, her brow creased. She didn't really know what she had expected but it was not a motive of pity. People rarely paid her any attention unless they had selfish reasons, but George showed more benevolence than greed. Despite what she could see, Victoria had little faith that it was the truth. She had been tricked by kindness before and she had vowed to never let it happen again.

"Your sympathy is unnecessary. I'm more than used to it." Victoria shrugged. "Besides, Fred didn't exactly look too happy about you staying."

"Fred is just worried about rumours."

"Rumours?" Victoria's gaze snapped towards him. "About what?"

"You said it yourself, Fred and I are rarely apart. When we are it's usually because Freddie has found someone to chase. But he likes this girl, Angelina, like _really_ likes her. He just doesn't want her thinking he's playing her, that's all.'

"Oh," she muttered, her shoulders sagged with relief. "I'm surprised he didn't drag you away, save himself the worry of such rumours."

"He wouldn't do that." His face crinkled in obvious disagreement. "Freddie might be cocky sometimes but he's not selfish."

Victoria didn't understand... or maybe she did, but she couldn't fathom why someone would potentially damage themselves for the sake another's happiness.

The witch shifted in her seat, completely and utterly perplexed by the boy sat next to her. A few seconds of silence and she decided that the best approach was to ignore her confusion and in turn George. She reopened her book and read quietly to herself, allowing the topic to vanish.

"If you're going to ignore me would you mind reading aloud so I feel a little bit included?"

Victoria glanced at him, she was surprised by his request but saw no harm in it and so after a breath she spoke aloud,

" _"But, Linda!" The Savage spoke imploringly, "Don't you know me?" He had tried so hard, had done his very best; why wouldn't she allow him to forget? He squeezed her limp hand almost with violence, as though he would force her to come back from this dream of ignoble pleasures, from these base and hateful memories-back into the present, back into reality: the appalling present, the awful reality-but sublime, but significant, but desperately important precisely because of the imminence of that which made them so fearful. "Don't you know me, Linda?"..."_


	9. To Be Fearless

On the day of the First Task, Hogwarts had morphed into an energy centre. Students bounded through corridors unable to contain their excitement. They cheered and chanted for their favourite champions and wagered against the others.

Victoria had almost dodged breakfast, but after missing it the day before and considering the duties she may have to perform later on, she had thought it best to gain some energy. Sitting in her usual spot the witch silently ate whilst listening to the dozens of conversations around her. Every single person was talking about the task, trying to work out what it could be.

After five minutes into breakfast Victoria started to grow curious. Neither of the twins were seated beside her like they would be during meals. She let her gaze flicker around the hall, but she saw no sign of them. The witch's brow creased, it was bizarre for them to break what had become such a strict routine, let alone miss a meal.

"They're taking bets," chimed Ginny from the opposite side of the table. She was sat next to Hermione, who was trying to console a very nervous Harry. Ron was no where to be seen.

Victoria stared at the youngest Weasley, a little surprised she was talking to her. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the day she was dragged into the eccentric group of Gryffindors.

"Never thought I'd see a Weasley skip a chance to eat," said Victoria.

Ginny chuckled. "Shocking, isn't it?"

"Quite," she hummed.

"Are you going to be watching with the judges today?" Ginny asked her tone light and friendly.

Victoria glanced at the distressed expression upon Harry's face and said, "actually I'll be close to the arena. I'm here to protect the champions from getting hurt."

"You are?" Hermione chimed in. "I thought the Ministry wasn't allowed to interfere?"

"They're not, but they also don't want anyone to die," she informed them before addressing Harry directly. "You've got nothing to worry about Potter."

"Nothing to worry about! Are you joking?" Harry choked on his words. A bitter twist of shock and aggression over took him. "You've just said people could die!"

"I believe I said that won't be happening this year." She said before her sympathetic tone hardened to something more determined, "I won't let it."

Harry let out a short cynical chuckle. "You're barley eighteen. Forgive me if that doesn't fill me with confidence."

Victoria let his comment go and took up a different approach.

"I hear you've fought a basilisk." She paused letting the weight of her statement settle. "A creature like that... I don't think even I would have the will to stand against one. Like I said Potter, you have nothing to worry about, a basilisk is far more dangerous than this task."

"I nearly died in the chamber." Harry spoke quietly.

"But you didn't. And you won't today either."

Harry's dark eyes darted away for a second as her words resonated truth.

"You're a smart boy Harry." Victoria started, but she stopped for a few seconds to consider her next words. The witch knew she was not supposed to help the champions before the task, but there was something about seeing someone look so hopeless and afraid that pushed the words from her mouth. "Don't let the adrenaline distract you."

 **ϟ**

By late morning, the students were allowed to enter the stands for the First Task, whilst the champions congregated in a tent off to the side of the arena.

Victoria had joined Harry on the walk down to the task, their journey silent. They had both dressed into their respective combat protective uniforms. Harry's red and golden robes had significantly more padding than Victoria's regular black robes. The witch only had a guard around her torso, fitted similarly to a corset. It was not her choice to wear the armour, she would prefer to wear her normal robes, as she found it rather difficult to move freely in the contraption wrapped around her.

The circular tent they had gathered in was bare and beige. A single bench rested on one side, the rest was open space for the champions to pace in. Ludo Bagman had been in and explained the process of the task, which had only set everyone on edge. The growing sensation that it was all real had started to settle in the minds of the champions. Victoria stood out of the way on the edge of the tent watching them all mentally prepare, a mixture of determination and worry shone through their features. Eventually the tense silence was interrupted by Ludo rejoining the group with a clap of his hands.

"Everyone ready?" Ludo called the champions together with a wave of his hand. They grouped around him slowly, all of the watching curiously as Ludo peeled opened the purple silk bag he carried with him.

"Ladies first." He offered the open bag to Fleur. Victoria straightened, the anticipation tightened her posture as Fleur reaches inside with a shacking hand.

Cautiously the blonde witch pulled out a tiny model of a green dragon with a number two hanging around its neck - Fleur would be the second to start.

Krum was next and much more confident as he dipped his hand into the silk bag. The Bulgarian Quidditch player had chosen the Chinese Fireball and would be going third.

Two left, Swedish Short-Snout and the Hungarian Horntail. Victoria would not condemn any of the champions to the latter of the remaining dragons, but one of them had to chose and she could only hope the more experience wizard picked the short straw. Tensions rose Cedric reached into the bag just as slowly as Fleur had and gradually pulled out his model... Swedish Short-Snout - first to go.

Victoria heart stopped. Dread filled her stomach as Harry took the remaining dragon and consequently the most lethal of all of them.

"Well, there we are!" Ludo grinned brightly at the champions as he closed the bag. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face and the numbers around their necks are the order that you will compete in, understand?"

A series of nods later and Ludo continued in a low and serious tone, "Now if you find yourselves in mortal danger, don't panic, help will be provided." He passed a small wave of recognition to Victoria.

Each champion inspected her. Fleur was the only one who's look turned sour.

"Her? She barely looks old enough to compete, let alone protect us," the female champion complained.

"Miss Nightingale is more than capable -" Ludo tried to defend Victoria but he was interrupted by Fleur who continued her point.

"C'est ridicule. Est là pas quelqu'un de plus expérimenté?" (This is ridiculous. Is there not someone more experienced?)

"You're a champion." Victoria started blankly. "You entered off the basis of your beliefs in your own abilities to compete, and you were picked because at least some of those beliefs are true. Am I correct?"

"Of course. The cup would have only chosen the best." Fleur raised her chin as she glowered.

"Then if you are as good as you say you are, there will be no need for my protection... so what are you worried about?"

Fleur's jaw clicked shut and for a moment she looked hostile until realisation crashed over her. She had no ground to stand on, any response to Victoria's undermining question would further destroy her reputability as a champion.

Victoria heard someone snicker quietly drawing her attention from the champion. She looked to Ludo in silent questioning to which he answered after clearing his throat, "If you could head to your position in the arena Miss Nightingale."

Victoria heeded his words and left promptly just as he started to address the champions. "The rest of you, please prepare yourselves. Mr. Diggory, you are going first..."

Ludo's voice trailed out of hearing range as Victoria walked towards her place for the event. There were very few people outside the arena, just a few stragglers who were running behind time were left scrambling to their seats.

Rather than following them into the main stands Victoria turned off to the side and followed the edge until she came to the wide clearing she was stood in a couple of days ago. Stood by the side entrance to the arena was Charlie, looking very excited and completely unconcerned by the rabid dragons that were a few meters behind him.

"They look restless," Victoria announced her presence and took the place next to Charlie. From her position she could see the whole arena and the fierce blue dragon in the centre. The giant beast was on high alert as she circled the clutch of golden eggs in the centre.

Without taking his eyes off of the dragon Charlie answered, "more like true dragons now. Frightened yet?"

"Never." There was no twitch in her voice that would reveal the lie, but in truth she was feeling a tad apprehensive. They were stark contrast to when she had first laid eyes on them, the beasts were now a wild and uncontrollable liability that Victoria had no experience in handling.

"Fearless in the path of Death Eaters and confident when pitched against a pissed off dragon. Is there anything you're afraid of?" Charlie finally acknowledged her although, he did not smile. His straight face and analytical gaze spoke volumes.

"You've asked about me." She stated.

"You made quite the first impression." He spared her a quick twitch of a smile before continuing, "I asked my dad about you. He said you were rescued by the Ministry when you were sixteen and you've been working with them ever since."

Victoria shifted, straightening her posture. She clasped her hands behind her back and raised her chin. "I don't know your father."

"Well, he knows you. You know I'd never have pegged you for someone with such a bad reputation."

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat and weakly defended herself, "The Minister won't appreciate you talking about me. He never does."

"What he doesn't know isn't going to hurt him." Charlie shrugged, "besides dad didn't say much."

Victoria felt an ever too familiar burn of anger grow hotter in her chest. "Then why bring it up?"

"Curiosity mostly." He gave her a friendly smile, evidently not picking up on the witch's souring mood. "What were you rescued from?"

A cold wash of fright prickled her skin into gooseflesh, he was asking all the questions that she keep so deeply buried. She could feel her elastic temper nearing its breaking point.

"Dad wouldn't say. He just went really quiet about it," Charlie continued entirely unaware of the terror he was causing. "To be honest, I'm not even sure he knows."

Victoria distanced herself with a couple of staggered steps back; a last attempt to restrain herself from lashing out. Her senses were alight;the sensitivity of her skin was overwhelming, her robes smothered her as she gulped at the November air. Screwing her eyes shut she heard a distant shrill of a whistle and roar of a crowd.

Second by second she lost more of her control, until her initial panic had been crushed by intense fury.

"... but given his reluctance to talk about it, I would guess it was probably something to do with De-"

Inevitably she snapped. Her wand fell from her sleeve into her awaiting hand as she spat through clenched teeth, "what does it matter?!"

Her interruption drew the Weasley's attention the problem he had gradually be creating. Charlie's face dropped at the sight of her narrowed glare, but his the second his gaze met her armed wand he went pale. A course of heavy dread drained the wizard, he was nervous and confused, not understanding what he had done to cause such a reaction.

"Sorry I didn't -"

" _Silencio_." She jabbed her wand stealing his voice. Twisting her pointed wand at him in an unspoken command to stay still. "Didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to pry?"

Charlie tried to speak, but it was futile. The sight of his soundless apologies and pleas ended the surge of rage within the witch. Whilst the fire no longer spread, the feeling still burnt deep.

Victoria lowered her wand and pushed past the wizard to the gates of the arena edge. Cedric had already collected his egg. His dragon stomped around huffing puffs of smoke, growling at the handlers that tried to encourage it back into a cage.

"I believe you have a job to do Mr. Weasley. You'd better go and help your coworkers."

Keeping her focus on the arena Victoria waved her wand and released him from the charm. Thankfully, Charlie thought better than to try to apologise, and so without sparing a syllable, Charlie left Victoria standing on the edge of the arena, alone.

 **ϟ**

Victoria watched as the champions fought their way passed each of the dragons. One by one they brought her an inch closer to interfering, but none pushed her closer than Harry. The boy was as careful as he was prepared, and yet he still survived. Victoria couldn't decide if it was sheer dumb luck that he beat the dragon or a miraculous ability to improvise, but if she knew one thing for sure, it was that she had underestimated him.

By the time Victoria had returned to the tent, each champion was being personally congratulated by the Minister and Ludo. The witch took a quick glance around the room before promptly joining her old mentor at the back of the tent out of the way.

All of the champions were clutching a single golden egg, looking a little worse for wear. Victoria's eyes then settled upon Harry, who was being complimented by an overexcited Ludo.

"How did he do?" She asked the man next to her.

Alastor huffed and shifted on his cane, "forty points; puts him in first with Krum."

She hummed, having no further opinion on the boy's placement.

Settling into her spot next to Moody, Victoria observed the champions. All of them had muddy and torn robes, with the exception of Fleur who's robes weren't torn but burnt. The darkened patch on her once pale blue outfit had been scorched by dragon fire. It was the one moment during the task that Victoria felt her anger subside and be replaced by amusement.

All of a sudden Madame Maxime was rushing towards Victoria spewing countless curses in French. The Headmistress towered over Victoria's small frame; her pungent almost acidic smelling perfume invaded Victoria's senses forcing her to take a step away.

"How could you let this happen! You are supposed to protect them, no?" Maxime exclaimed with a jab of an accusing forefinger in Victoria's direction.

Still fuming from her earlier battles, Victoria rose to her own defence and moved reinstate her position in front of the Headmistress with an equally threatening stance. However, she barley made it an inch closer before she ran directly into Alastor's outstretched cane.

Victoria looked at her mentor, nostrils flaring and jaw clamped shut. Alastor lowered his cane and replace it with a gentle hand upon the witch's shoulder.

"This is not your fight," he whispered to her and gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "Just let it go."

Victoria shrugged his hand away and gritted her teeth together as she fought with herself. Regardless of her want to hex the accusative witch she reined in her desire and squared her posture, dropping the issue.

Silence filled the tent. Victoria could feel the glare from the Minister baring down upon her. She dipped her head and dropped her gaze to the floor, hoping her submission would spare her fate.

"Madame Maxime." The Minister's voice cut through the growing tension, collecting the attention of everyone. "Nightingale is here to prevent fatalities, _not_ burnt skirts. Miss Delacour will just have to be more careful next time."

Victoria took satisfaction from hearing the headmistress's huff in defeat.

"I believe that concludes our day." The Minister spoke to everyone. "Allow me to pass one final congratulations to our champions who preformed incredibly. I do hope you all continue to do well in the following tasks."

Raising her head, Victoria restrained a spiteful smirk from spreading on her lips as she watched Madame Maxime stomp out of the tent with Fleur in her trail.

The Minister gave a nod to the room and departed with his colleagues in tow. Ludo had been reluctant to leave, however he soon followed Cornelius out.

With the oppressive presence of the Ministry gone, Victoria felt like she could breathe again. She had expected the Minister to chastise her for nearly attacking the French Headmistress, however it seemed she was off the hook and the witch had no intention of questioning it.

One by one the champions fled the tent in order to join their evening celebrations with the rest of their respective schools. Harry spared a quick smile of recognition to Victoria before too darting out.

"That's quite the temper Missy. I thought you were better than that," Alastor commented once they were alone.

"Rough day."

Victoria passed the weak excuse and moved to leave as well but she stopped short when Alastor stepped in front of her.

"Rage is a terrible thing," he said before levelling her with a dark look. "Don't let it control you."

And with that he hobbled out, leaving her to ponder what she could only consider to be an impossible piece of advice.


End file.
